I lie all the time. All the time. To my family.
I say whatever they want to hear. I agree with what they say, I don’t say what would upset/bother them, I make up what they would rather hear.
My sister is pregnant (again – her fourth) and my Dad doesn’t even know! My sister mentioned something about pregnancy to him weeks ago while cleaning his car, but he hoped she was joking. I know she is definitely pregnant, as she told my Mum – scan picture and all – but he doesn’t. So I say nothing.
When he does find out, and he tells me, I will act surprised as if I never knew.
I was off last Monday for my Dad’s 70th birthday. I didn’t tell my Mum on the phone on Sunday even though she asked what I was up to this week. Why!? I don’t know.
Part of it is probably the guilt I feel at not having seen her for a while, and not wanting to rub it in that I see Dad quite often when really she is not much further down the road. She does work, a lot, so is not available as much as my retired Dad, but I still feel bad.
My parent’s relationship was rocky when I was growing up: on-again, off-again, and my Mum moved out of the house three years ago (though they had separate rooms for a long time before that). All that time I tried to keep the peace between them – doing chores, taking the blame and, again, lying to try to keep a harmonious home.
Even though they now live apart I am still doing it.
They say you become friends with your parents as you get older, and that has happened, but I also feel a little like a carer sometimes: being the one they turn to when they have problems, moaning about work/my sister, even borrowing money.
Is this OK behaviour? Should I do this, let people be happy and keep lying? Or be honest and risk unhappiness or weirdness? I am sure they would say, if asked, they would prefer honesty, but surely some ignorance is bliss?
Note: I don’t lie to anyone else – just family.